


The Factory

by CantSpeakFae



Series: The Scars Souvenir [22]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Episode Revisit + Revision, Written from Xander's P.O.V
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 17:04:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18347957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CantSpeakFae/pseuds/CantSpeakFae
Summary: He can already see it, all of his friends becoming doctors or lawyers or English majors while he works side-by-side with his mom at the drive-through.





	The Factory

“This is a nightmare. This is… My world is spinning.”   
  
Willow whimpers as she and Xander walk across the lawn toward the main entrance of the high-school. She’s clutching her SAT scores so tightly that he’s a little worried that she’s going to shred right through them and he sighs, shaking his head.  
  
“It’s not that bad, Willow, really.”   
  
“740? Verbal? I’m-I’m… pathetic! Illiterate! I’m Celtus, the slack-jawed yokel!”   
  
Xander flinches and drops his gaze down to the ground, frowning himself. It’s not that he doesn’t get why Willow is upset - she worked really, really hard and spent so much of her life working to the bestest, smartest and most specialest Willow possible and this feels like a huge let-down to her… but, if that score is what she thinks makes for an idiot, then he can’t imagine what she thought when he told her his.   
  
“That’s right.” He says, out loud, with a shrug. “And the fact that your 740 verbal closely resembles my combined scores in no way compromises your position as the village idiot.”   
  
She doesn’t take the hint. Just slouches onto the bench that they come up to and folds her score report, her eyes still misty. “I just… where did I go wrong?”   
  
Xander settles down next to her. Okay, well, she’s gonna be stuck on this for a while and is nowhere near realizing how insulting she’s being to him, right now, so he’ll opt for the comforting until he can remind her that she’s ten times as smart as he is and probably scored higher than anyone in Sunnydale because JEEZE it’s not like there’s a lot of cramming time between dying, right? He puts his arm around her shoulder, to comfort her, and strokes her hair.   
  
“You did amazing, Willow. As usual.”   
  
Footsteps sound behind them and then Cordelia’s voice calls -  
  
“You guys get your scores?”   
  
Xander pulls away from Wills like she’s contagious, jumping to his feet and running to meet Cordelia like a puppy dutifully called home to its master and just _brimming_  with guilt. Cordy, Cordy, Cordy. Look at how pretty she is, standing there. Why can’t he get his stupid brain to quit lustin’ after Willow?   
  
“Cordelia! Willow was just very sad by her academic failure.” Xander said, heavy on the sarcasm. “How did you do?”   
  
He snags her score from her, unfolds it, and gives it a quick once over. It’s better than his, too, which isn’t saying much since his combined score was a 720. And it’s not much lower than Willow’s score, which he assumes is good because he already assumed that Wills got the highest score of anyone.   
  
He looks back at Cordelia, his expression dire. “This isn’t good.”   
  
Cordelia stares back, confused. “What isn’t good?”  
  
“Well, I’m just worried that it may hurt my standing as campus stud when people find out I’m dating a brain.” He teases, shoving his own scores into his back pocket so that she can’t snag a peek and start wondering how he has enough brain power to walk and talk at the same time, since he’s pretty sure that’s what the people who gave the test were thinkin’ about him, after.   
  
Cordelia just yanks her scores back away from him. “Please, I have SOME experience in covering these things up.”   
  
Nearby, Oz is trying valiantly to pick up the mantle of the Willow-cheerer-upper, with no success and so instead of trying to sarcasm her into a better mood, he opts for plan B.   
  
“But we should celebrate, do something,” Oz suggests, nudging Willow.   
  
“Like, the four of us?” Cordelia asks, shooting Xander a pointed look, shaking her head, and mouthing “no” at him.   
  
Xander pretends not to see. Cordelia’s been wanting some major alone-time with him. Like, major. Not in large doses, but he’s getting the sense that she’s itching to give third-base a shot or maybe even go all the way and the idea makes him feel… funny.   
  
Maybe it’s cause he’s having all these feelings for Willow and can’t imagine going further with Cordy while it’s still happening, or maybe it’s something else entirely. Either way, he’s game for whatever doesn’t lend them to too much alone time until he sorts himself out.   
  
“A double date! It could have potential.” He says, in agreement with Oz.  
  
Buffy walks up the steps from the street, a long look on her face, and joins them in their huddle. That’s the thing that finally makes Willow brighten up and she rises from the bench, lookin’ like she’s fixing to pounce on her.   
  
“Hey! Did you get your SAT scores?”   
  
Buffy gives her a weak nod.  
  
“By the look on your face, I'm guessing you and I are gonna be manning the drive-through window side by side.” Xander jokes, shoving his hands into his pockets.   
  
“They’re just test scores, right?” Buffy asked, handing them over to Willow. “What do they really mean, anyway?”   
  
They mean he’s dumber than a box of rocks and never getting off of this Hellmouth, that’s what they mean. But he doesn’t say it out loud, in case Buffy’s scores are like his. No reason to pity her party.   
  
“1430! Buffy, you kicked ass!” Willow exclaimed.   
  
Everyone stares at her.   
  
“Okay,” Willow says, embarrassed, folding the report. “So academic achievement gets me a little excited.”  
  
Buffy hands her scores over to Xander and he looks down without even unfolding it, pasting a smile on his face. Okay, he’s an asshole. A true, honest-to-god, give-his-father-a-run-for-his-money asshole, because now he’s angry in addition to being stupid. What is with all his friends having such sour attitudes over doing so well? Willow callin’ herself illiterate over a her near-perfect verbal and Buffy looking like the world ended over a 1430.   
  
But he grins. “Buff, that’s amazing.”   
  
“Let me see that.” Cordelia says, yanking them away before Xander can even unfold it.   
  
“Yeah. With scores like that, you can apply pretty much anywhere you want.”   
  
“Buffy, this could, like, change your whole future!”  
  
Buffy’s still frowning, even as the fawning continues, and Xander kicks a stray rock and swallows hard against the lump that’s rising in his throat. He can already see it, all of his friends going away, becoming doctors or lawyers or English majors while he works side-by-side with his mom at the drive-through. Yeah, that’ll be great.   
  
“The thought had occurred to me,” Buffy muttered.   
  
“Then why the sour puss?”   
  
“I don't know. I guess... my future. I never really thought about it. I wasn't even sure I was going to have one.” Buffy admitted.   
  
Now he’s an asshole on top of being an asshole because of course, that’s why she’s upset. Not because she tested well, but because now she was having to face a life she didn’t know she was gonna have. Xander could kick himself, but he kicks another rock instead.   
  
“Well, I think this is great! Now you can leave and never come back!” Cordelia said.  
  
Everyone stares at her now.   
  
“Well, I mean that in a positive way,” Cordelia said, defensively. “Get out of Sunnydale. That’s a good thing. What kind of moron would ever wanna come back here?”   
  
Only the same kinda morons that can’t get out in the first place. Things can’t possibly get any worse than this.   
  


* * *

  
Of course, the SATs aren’t the only hot-ticket item of the day and, in fact, Xander is very happy to change the subject and discuss the other big issue: getting Cordelia to agree to a double-date.   
  
“C'mon. It'll be fun!”  
  
“I don't know. I just thought we were gonna do something... you know, classy?”  
  
“What's classier than bowling?”  
  
“Apart from everything ever? Let’s see…”   
  
“Oz and Willow are down. You’re the swing vote.” He says, imploringly, skipping around to the other side of her and grinning. “I guarantee fun.”   
  
Cordelia grins, at that, and even laughs a little, which makes his heart swell up like a balloon… and then instantly deflate when he glances at her locker door and sees… pictures. Him and her, together. One of them on the bench, their arms wrapped around each other and big, cheesy grins on their faces, another of just him with his big, goofy grin and place and the last of him holding her up on his back, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He remembered posing for all of those and how… light and warm he felt. Secure with her and their relationship.  
  
“Hey, those are from the pier.”   
  
“Yeah. Uh, I just got them developed.”  
  
Xander keeps staring, his voice faint. “There's pictures. Of me. In your locker. I never knew I was locker door material.”  
  
Cordelia closes her locker, and they begin walking down the hall together.   
  
“Well… just barely.” She says, always a kick to keep his ego from getting too big. “Besides, I look really cute in those pictures.”   
  
That she does. Before he can tell her so, though, Oz and Willow meet them from the other direction and Oz looks expectantly at the two of them.   
  
“Hey. So, what’s the verdict? Do we bowl?”   
  
Xander tilts his head and gives Cordelia a pleading look. C’mon, Cordy. Maybe this is exactly what he and Willow need to give up the freaking ghost of each other and get back to being happily in love with their respective others.   
  
“...We bowl.” Cordelia says, finally relenting.   
  
“Great! Double bowling date!” Willow says, patting Oz’s chest. “I'm on Oz's team.”  
  
“Yeah? Prepare to be crushed.” Xander asks, pointing at Oz and then taking Cordelia’s arm and whispering to her. “Maybe we should practice.”   
  
Cordelia nods in agreement. “Yeah.”  
  
They go their separate ways again and Xander feels… hopeful. Maybe things’ll just get better.   
  


* * *

  
“Something's gonna happen.”   
  
Xander sighs. “Like what?”   
  
“Uh! It’s a mistake! It's a terrible, fatal mistake. I see that now.” Willow wails, doing that flailing thing with her hands that she does whenever she’s upset.   
  
“It’s just bowling,” Xander says, trying to soothe her. She’s been hyper ever since her test scores and he’s hoping that’s mosta what’s freaking her, now.   
  
“It's BAD bowling. I-it's a double date, with all of us, and they're gonna know!”  
  
They’ve got out in group scenarios with Oz and Cordy before, though. Xander gives Willow a skeptical look. “How are they gonna know?”  
  
“It's a very intimate situation. It's all sexy with the smoke and the sweating and the shoe rental…”   
  
Okay, wait. Hang on a minute, back up. Xander raises his eyebrows.   
  
“You're turned on by rented shoes?”  
  
“That's not the issue!”   
  
Willow stops walking, so he stops walking too, and turns to face her.   
  
“Okay, well then let me ask you this: What are they gonna know? That we're friends. Old, old friends. And maybe we've had one or two indiscretions, but that's all past. Look. We're just very good friends who like to hang out, and can I kiss your earlobe?”   
  
He gets distracted midway through talking. He can’t help it - she just looks so cute when she’s panicking.   
  
“No! Well, okay…” She says, starting to lean into him before jerking back again and holding up the Pez dispenser like a weapon. “No! PEZ!”   
  
They both freeze, then, trying to calm down and think. Whacky teenage hormones, what is WITH them?   
  
“Maybe bowling might be too much to handle. Man!” Xander says, reaching out to stroke her hair. He means it as an honest, comforting gesture but it always turns into more when she looks up at him like that. “I wish I wasn’t so attracted to you. I wish we could make it all stop.”   
  
Willow sighs sadly. “Any suggestions?”   
  
Nothing but burying himself alive to avoid all of this. He’s not sure who that’ll help, though.  
  


* * *

  
Truth be told, Xander should have been way more suspicious about why Willow wanted him to meet her at the school, after school, and a few hours before their double with Cordy and Oz. He hadn’t been _i_ _nclined_  to believe that she was lookin’ to fool around, since she’s more of an in-the-moment kinda gal and not interested in going places where they could be seen, but he also couldn’t think of any other reason and her excuse of needing his help with something chemistry-related had felt very flimsy to him. So, he walks in without the slightest clue, into a dark room, and heads toward the Willow-shaped gal.   
  
“Whoa! It smells like church in here.” Xander says, sniffing the air. “No, wait… evil church.”   
  
“It’s just chemistry stuff. An experiment.”  
  
“So you said when you called. Why do I have to be here?”   
  
“It’ll help you on the exam. You’re way behind.”   
  
Huh. She really did want him to study? That’s uh… sweet, in a way, but also really confusing in another. However, he just grins.   
  
“But that’s why you love me, right?” He asks, nodding. “Academically dangerous?”   
  
“Here,” Willow says, ignoring that and handing him a dark feather. “Hold this.”   
  
“A feather.” He says, surprised. Okay, he might not be the best-est student, but he doesn’t remember that being part of chemistry. “And who will I be tickling?”   
  
He runs it against Willow’s cheek, trying to crack her outta the weird, dire expression thing she has going on but she smacks his hand aside after a few seconds.   
  
“Shush.” She tells him, gruffly.   
  
Okay, another point in the confused column and a teeny-tiny check-mark in the “hurt feelings” sub-category. Maybe this really is about his grades? Maybe his abysmal SAT scores finally clicked for her and now she’s trying desperately to salvage his entire academic career with one great test? Hm. Not very likely. Okay, but that’s the only theory he has to work with.  
  
“Okay,” Willow says, glancing down at her book. “Bring the mixture to a boil…”   
  
She lights the Bunsen burner below the flask of liquid and Xander taps his foot, impatiently. When had they done anything like this to prep for the exam? Jeeze, he musta been really out of it. Or skipping entirely. He’s had a lot of reasons not to go to class, lately.  
  
“I assume this isn’t going to make us late for our evening of bowling magic.”  
  
Willow jerks up at that. “There's no magic! I mean, bowling, yeah. Cordelia and Oz are gonna meet us here later.”   
  
She called them, too? Okay, that definitely takes fooling around off the table and he kinda hates himself for still thinking of a table in the first place, but he can only process so much guilt at a time.   
  
“Can we turn these lights on?” Xander asks. Between Willow’s attitude and how dark it is, he’s kinda spooked.   
  
He looks back at her when she doesn’t answer… and finally at the book that she’s reading from. That doesn’t look like their textbook. Even in the dark and he steps around her to try and get a better look. Is that…  
  
“Is that a spell book?”   
  
Willow jumps and tries to hide it with her hand. “No, no, no! Chemistry book!”   
  
“Wait a minute,” Xander says, his eyes widening. Now he knows why this feels so familiar. Feathers, burners, that smell… it’s kinda like what Amy had been doing when he was getting his petty revenge on Cordy. “This is love spell stuff! You’re doing a love spell?”   
  
“No! Of course not! This is purely scientific -”  
  
Xander takes the book and holds it up, pointing to the title: “Witchcraft.”   
  
“ - delusting spell… for us. I thought it would go better if you didn’t know.”   
  
Xander blinks, rapidly, feeling several different emotions at once: anger, betrayal, confusion, hurt, upset, and a little more confusion. How could she… okay, first to even TRY to put a spell like this out into the universe, after what happened last time, but to do it without him knowing? That’s badness! It was bad when he did it and it’s bad when she’s doing it, right? There’s gotta be a set standard for this kinda thing.   
  
“Are you nuts?” He asks, raising his voice. “Or have you forgotten that I tend to have bad luck with these sorts of spells?”   
  
Wouldn’t it be just his luck that it backfired in some horrible, twisted way? Like, he doesn’t have a lust for Willow but he’s tryin’ to cheat on Cordelia with every lady in town. Or, every lady in town has a big lust for HIM. No, he can’t go through that again. Or maybe it’ll work too well and he’ll have no lust for Willow and no lust for ANYONE ever again. Magical castration. Oh, god!   
  
Willow raises her voice right back at him, though, not yet seeing the insanity of her ways. “But you said you wished that these feelings could just go away!”   
  
“Yeah, I wish for a LOT of things! I told you I wished I was a fireman when we were in sixth grade, but you didn't follow through on that!”   
  
“I can’t do this anymore, Xander! I mean, this whole “us” thing is… bleagh!”   
  
Another, bigger check-mark in the sub-category of hurt. Xander can’t believe her. He feels bad about it too. He really, really does. But… c’mon. Trying to get inside of them and turn it off like flipping a switch? It seems wrong and oogy and dangerous. He doesn’t wanna mess with magic. Not now and not ever again.  
  
“So, do you really need to resort to the black arts to keep our hormones in check?”  
  
“At this point, I'm thinking 'no'.” Willow says, calmly and coolly.  
  
She’s mad at him. Good, cause he’s kinda mad at her too.   
  
“I’m gonna get the lights.” He says, turning to go for the switches. “Clean this place up before they get here and start asking questions.”   
  
He flips the switches and, as he does, somebody suddenly grabs him by the neck and, for a wild second, he thinks that it’s Cordelia, having overheard everything they said and coming to _rightfully_  murder him on the spot.   
  
“Xander!”   
  
The fingers around his throat squeeze hard, choking him, and Xander struggles and writhes to get away from him, but he can’t get free and Spike growls in his ear.  
  
“I need to borrow the little girl. You don’t mind, do you?”   
  
Wrong fucking words, pal. Xander goes blind with rage, for a second, at the thought of this guy stealing away Willow and he kicks out against the wall, hard, sending them both reeling back and knocking into a metal shelf, hoping to buy enough time for Willow to run like hell. She doesn’t move, though, and Xander’s suddenly flung down onto the floor. He tries to get back up, determined to keep Spike away from Willow, but his reward for his efforts is to be punched _very_  hard in the head.  
  
Willow grabs a microscope and comes at Spike with it. He stops her in mid-swing.  
  
“Threatening me? That's not nice.” He growls at her as Xander rises back up behind him, his face smarting and looking desperately at Willow. “We’re all gonna be very best friends.   
  
Spike yanks the microscope from Willow’s grip and then swings it around into Xander’s temple. There’s a burst of pain like red fireworks exploding in front of his very eyes and then he hits the floor and knows nothing else.  
  


* * *

  
Someone roughly drops him onto something soft. He bounces on impact and whimpers as sparks of fresh pain shoot through his smarting skull and settles back down into the cooler abyss of unconsciousness.   
  


* * *

  
Xander moans when he wakes, the second time, with his head spinning and his stomach churning. Willow’s there in minutes, sitting on the side of the bed. The springs groan ominously and he tries to force his eyes to open. It hurts. Everything hurts.  
  
“Xander?” Willow says, her voice wavering. “Are you okay?”   
  
He tries to sit up but doesn’t get very far and slumps back down when his stomach threatens to make his lunch reappear all over his lap.  
  
“Dizzy.” He winces. “Kind of nauseous, too. Do I remember having a fight with Spike?”   
  
“You do.”  
  
Xander reaches up to where the pain is pulsing from, his fingers encountering dried blood that’s caked all the way down the side of his face and he quickly drops his hand, again.   
  
“I won, right?” He asks, weakly, trying a pitiful stab at humour. “Kicked his ass?”   
  
“You were real brave. Do you need to barf?”   
  
“No, I'll be okay,” Xander says, hoping so more than he is sure. He starts to look around, but it doesn’t look like any place he’s ever been before. Everything is covered in soot and most of the stuff is melted or burned like it’d been torched. “Where are we?”   
  
“The factory. We’re locked in the basement.”   
  
“That burnt out place in the middle of nowhere? So, we’re pretty much in a “scream all you want” scenario?”   
  
“Pretty much.”  
  
Super. Another pulse of agony rips through him and he tries manfully to suppress the whimper that threatens to follow.  
  
“Why didn't he just kill us?”   
  
That’d probably feel better than his headache.   
  
“He-he wants me to do a love spell.”  
  
Okay, that’s not at all the answer that Xander was expecting from her. Of all the wacky, crazy, and hysterical reasons a vampire could have for bashing his head in and then locking him up in a basement with his bestest friend in the world, making her work her mystical mojo wasn’t even in his top three.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Drusilla broke up with him.”   
  
“Gee, and we had all hoped those crazy kids would make it work,” Xander said, scathingly.   
  
“ He's out of control,” Willow says, her voice tight and terrified. “I mean, not that he was Joe Restraint in the old days.”   
  
He’s freaking her out by being all sarcastic. He can see it, so he takes a deep breath and forces himself to sit up. Time to figure out a game plan.   
  
“So, what are our options?” He asks, wincing again.   
  
“Well, I figure either… I refuse to do the spell and he kills us, or I do the spell and he kills us.”   
  
“Give me a third option.”   
  
“He’s so drunk that he forgets about us, and we starve to death,” Willow says, without an ounce of humour. “That’s sort of the best one.”   
  
He can already hear the defeat in her voice and the urge to beat Spike to ash with one of the burnt up dolls in this place is so strong that it almost propels him outta the bed. Almost.   
  
“Will, we're not gonna die.” He insists, trying to get up. Willow tugs on his arm to help. “If he’s so drunk, he’ll get sloppy, and then I’ll make my move.”   
  
See the aforementioned plan of beating Spike into ash with a doll. Of course, that only works if he can stand and they both collapse back onto the bed when his weight gives out under the enormous pressure in his head.   
  
“As long as my move doesn't involve standing up or using my limbs, we'll be okay.”   
  
He looks at her and suddenly realizes just how close they landed when they fell and the urge to kiss Willow is strong - very, very strong. Willow must feel it too because she shakes her head and whispers to him.   
  
“We’re not supposed to.”   
  
Except, Xander is very, very, very afraid. He hasn’t gotten a headache like this in a long time. Not since he was ten and Tony threw him into the wall so hard that he threw up and then passed out right into said throw up and had to do a few days in the hospital, claiming rough-housing that got outta hand. He thought he was gonna die then and he’s even surer now.  
  
“Exemption for impending death situation.” He insists.   
  
That seems to be all the argument that Willow needs because she leans in and kisses him. Xander reaches to pull her close as he lies back, again, and she clings to him.  
  
“Oh, god!”   
  
Cordelia’s voice suddenly echoes in the quiet and Willow rolls offa him as fast as she can, but it’s too late. Cordy and Oz are there and they saw them together.   
  
“Oh, God,” Xander says, his eyes widening.   
  
“Oh, God, Oz…” Willow says, paling.   
  
“We have to get outta here,” Oz says, his expression never changing.   
  
Cordelia’s does, though. Shock is replaced by heartbreak and she turns and runs up the stairs. Xander swears, internally, and tries to force himself up. God, it hurts. It hurts so much. It -   
  
There’s a crash and Cordelia screams. And Xander forgets all about his pain, jumping up and running fast than he ever thought himself capable of, booking it and shoving past Willow, past Oz, and nearly falling into the hole after her.   
  
“Cordelia!”   
  
She barely stirs at the sound of his voice, turning her head to look up where he’s looking down.   
  
“I fell.” She says, so faintly that he can hardly hear her.   
  
But he’s not looking at her face when she speaks. He’s staring at the long piece of rusty iron rebar that’s protruding from her left side. Impaling her.  
  
Oh, god, what did he DO.  
  


* * *

  
Xander starts to lower himself down before he can even really think about what he’s doing, just determined to be down with her.   
  
“Be careful.” Willow pleads from behind him, but Xander doesn’t even look at her.   
  
“Yeah.”   
  
“Don’t move, Cordy!” Willow calls, then. “Oz went to get help.”   
  
Xander drops them, then, landing awkwardly and dropping down to her level when she moans. He strokes his hand over her hair, his eyes stinging with tears. Oh god, oh god, oh god.   
  
“Cordy… please hold on.”   
  
“Xander?” She asks, softly. “I can’t see you.”   
  
Her head rolls the side and she exhales faintly.   
  
And all Xander can think is that he got her killed and if Spike comes back, he deserves whatever the vampire is gonna do to him.  
  
“Cordy!”  
  


* * *

  
She doesn’t die.   
  
It’s a miracle that the bar missed her vital organs. A miracle that she’ll heal up just fine with enough rest. And it’ll be a miracle if she ever wants to look at him again, but Xander’s not counting on that last one. He hadn’t left the hospital since he got there, just a while after the ambulance, and the second that he was told he could see her, he was running down the hall with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand and an apology so strong that it’s a bigger pressure than the pain in his head.   
  
He knocks on the door when he gets there, his stomach twisting. “Can I come in?”   
  
She doesn’t answer, so he steps in anyway.   
  
“They wouldn't let me see you until now.”   
  
He sets the bouquet on the table where she can see him.  
  
“Those are flowers.” He says, stupidly, and then settles into a chair next to her bed. She slowly turns her head to face him and he thinks, desperately, hoping to find the right thing to say. “Look, Cordy, I want you to know that I…”  
  
She interrupts him. Weakly. “Xander?”   
  
“Yeah?” He asks, hopeful.   
  
“Stay away from me.”  
  
She looks back away from him and Xander drops his gaze back down to his lap, swallowing hard. What had he expected, really? He’d spent so much time thinking about himself. His feeling. His attraction to Willow, his guilt over his want for Willow, his worry, his fear, his terror… he hadn’t even stopped to think about what Cordelia would feel until now.  
  
He doesn’t deserve her. He never did.  
  
He rises from his seat and turns to go, looking back at her one last time as he reaches the door, trying to find an apology good enough to undo all the damage he caused. But there’s nothing.   
  
He heads down the hall, fighting tears the whole way.


End file.
